Mister Granger's Mission
by WickedlyAwesomeMe
Summary: … AKA the "Do-Anything-To-Keep-Precious-Hermione-Away-From-Draco-Malfoy" mission. All fathers fear the day when they will meet the person who will steal their daughters away from them. Mister Granger is afraid he already met his match.
1. Friend

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's.**

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**A/N: So hey, here's a new Dramione story! I know, I know, I've been a little scarce in the Dramione world of fanfiction. I got a little busy with my crossover fic and, well, life, generally. But hey, look at the bright side! Here's a new Dramione fic for you guys. **

**A little downside - this will only be a five-chaptered story. I have another Dramione story in progress and that's the novel-length one but I'm nowhere near finished. School's about to start and, well, I have this hunch I won't be able to post it anytime sooner. **

**ANYWAY, so here's a little something that I've been working on for almost a year ago. Truth be told, I almost abandoned it and I was glad I did not post it earlier before. First chapter's a little short, but chapters will be longer as the story progresses :)**

**It's a spin-off of a chapter in one of my stories, "Alphabet Love", specifically, "Inspector Draco Malfoy". It can stand alone, but it would still be best if you try to read that one first. **

**So, review afterwards! Enjoy this story :)**

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**Title:** Mister Granger's Mission  
**Author:** WickedlyAwesomeMe  
**Form:** Multi-Chaptered  
**Genre:** Family/Humor/Romance  
**Rating:** T, just to be safe  
**Warning/s:** Cussing and some innuendos  
**Ship:** Draco/Hermione  
**Summary:** …AKA the "Do-Anything-To-Keep-Precious-Hermione-Away-From-Draco-Malfoy" mission. Every father fears the day when they will meet the person who will steal their daughters away from them. Mister Granger is afraid he already met his match. Due to public demand, this is a 5-chaptered sequel to **Alphabet Love: Inspector Draco Malfoy**. Read it first before this. Review afterwards!

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**Mr. Granger's Mission**

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**Chapter One: Friend**

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Mister Harold Granger, a handsome and well-respected dentist of the town, watched with a visible scowl on his face as his precious five-year-old daughter dashed to-and-fro from the front door to her room with obvious excitement.

"Is he here yet, Daddy?" she bubbled merrily, climbing up their sofa and peeked outside the window. "Inspector Draco Malfoy said he'll be here soon!"

"Hermione, please," he said, a disapproving tone in his voice. His daughter seemed to overlook that fact because she bounded off the couch and ran to the door, opening it with a bang and looked left to right for any telltale signs of her new friend.

'_Lord,' _Mister Granger mused with an audible sigh, _'did I do the right thing by agreeing to invite the boy for dinner?'_

A fortnight ago, Mister Granger, together with his wife, arrived from the veterinarian only to see five-year-old Draco Malfoy beside his daughter. It somehow stirred an alarmed feeling inside his stomach when Hermione bid him goodbye with an innocent kiss on the little boy's cheek. It was innocent, yes, but it had set-off the alarming bells inside his head.

"_He's just a boy," _his wife had assured him but _still_…

Mister Granger released a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat and shook his head. He loves his daughter, oh so much, but from the moment he saw her in the arms of his mother, he knew he would have a hard time being a father of a little _girl_. He had fervently prayed when he discovered that his wife was pregnant that the God above would bless them with a boy. Because, he knew that if he had a son instead of a daughter, he wouldn't be worrying like this over something as trivial as his child befriending the opposite sex.

"Dinner's almost ready," Mrs. Jean Granger announced from the kitchen, making Hermione jump up and down in excitement.

"He's almost here!" she announced gleefully, once again repeating her climb-sofa, peek-window, and open-door routine.

"Sweetheart, can you help your mother in the kitchen?" Mister Granger asked in exhaustion, a migraine already forming because of her constant merriment. "I'll call you once Draco is here."

Hermione nodded her head enthusiastically and dashed off to the kitchen.

The Granger patriarch looked at his watch and waited.

Now that his daughter was out of the room, he muttered a soft curse under his breath. He somehow hated the fact that he was wrapped around the finger of his daughter.

"_Daddy, can we invite Inspector Draco Malfoy for dinner?" _she asked, complete with the puppy dog eyes of hers that seemed to hypnotize him into sheer stupidity.

"_Of course, sweetheart. Anything you want." _See what he meant by 'sheer stupidity'?

He had voiced out his concern to Jean but as usual, she just laughed at his ridiculousness and waved a dismissive hand. _"It's part of growing up," _she told him. She continued with saying the painful reality that no matter how much he protected his precious daughter from 'monstrous' boys, she still would be exposed to them, especially once Hermione starts to go to school.

Hence, he merely watched as Hermione wrote a short invitation to her new friend. It still made him suspicious that they were keeping in contact through an owl he deemed intelligent. Draco's owl, Andros, had swooped down in their dining table one lunch time and dropped a letter on Hermione's lap. The little brunette opened the letter and it turned out it was from Draco, and after that, they were writing each other letters.

_Knock. Knock. _

The sound of knocking followed by an excited scream from the kitchen had cut Mister Granger off his musing. Little Hermione's bare feet padded against the floor, slightly muffled by their carpet. In just a few seconds, she was in front of the door and she opened it with a bang. There stood the handsome young boy, this time wearing a simple brown shirt and small khaki shorts. He was sporting a small smile, flaunting his adorable dimple on his left cheek.

"Hi, Hermione," he said.

Hermione, unable to contain her joy, launched herself into his arms and hugged him. "I'm so happy you came!"

Mister Granger's eyes turned into thin slits as the blond boy's cheeks turned into pink.

Newton, Hermione's cat, came out of nowhere and was now rubbing his cheek against the boy's legs. Draco chuckled, and then bent down to scoop the cat into his arms. "Hello, Newton."

"Draco," Jean said, announcing her arrival.

Draco's eyes landed on him and his wife. He placed Newton back on the floor and straightened up. His face was the epitome of utter respect, despite his young age, as he bent down. "Good evening, Hermione's Mommy and Daddy."

Mrs. Granger laughed and approached the young boy, straightening him up. "No need to be formal, honey." Jean looked at her husband and raised an eyebrow.

Harold scowled and subtly rolled his eyes. "Draco Malfoy," he merely said and the little boy looked back at him with wide eyes.

Jean cleared her throat. Mister Granger's eyes landed on his wife and raised an eyebrow. "Remember what you promised," he mouthed and Mrs. Granger released an exhausted sigh.

"Well," she said, "who wants to help me make the pudding?"

Hermione exclaimed an excited "me" and bounded off towards her mother. She then looked back at Draco. "Do you want to help, too?"

Before the little boy could even answer, Mrs. Granger piped in, "Let him explore our house first, sweetheart. Your father will keep him company."

It was obvious that Hermione wanted to interject but in the end allowed her mother to pull her into the kitchen.

Newton stared at the man and boy with his yellow eyes and decided to follow his mistress. Harold thought the cat could sense something tensioned coming.

Now, only her father and Hermione's new friend were left in the living room. A good minute passed between the two, the older still staring down at Draco. The blond grew uneasy under his gaze and started to rub the back of his neck.

"Sit down," Mister Granger said, gesturing at the sofa. Draco wordlessly nodded his head and sat down. Harold sat down on his favorite chair, opposite the sofa, and the crossed his arms.

"What is your whole name?" he interrogated.

The little boy blinked, clearly not expecting his question, but answered nonetheless. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, sir," he said.

He raised an eyebrow at his address. _'He seems… too polite for a little boy,' _he concluded. Draco started to swing his short legs and shot a longing look at the kitchen door.

"Where do you live, Draco?" he continued.

"Near here, Hermione's Daddy," he answered back, his silver eyes averted away from his questioning gaze.

"_Where_?" he pressed on.

Draco blinked. "_Near_," he repeated.

Harold released a disgruntled sigh. _'Fine,' _he thought. "What is the name of your father?"

"Lucius Malfoy," he said.

Mister Granger raised an eyebrow. Another weird name, he thought. "And what does he do for a living?"

"Um… he's the boss of our company," the little boy said with a slight pout.

"A company?" he asked, surprised. He was more surprised with the fact that his father was heading it. "What does your company do?"

Draco looked ashamedly on his hands. "I can't tell, Hermione's Daddy," he said apologetically. "My Mommy said I can't tell those kinds of things to Muggles."

"Muggles?" Harlod inquired. He was surprised when Draco suddenly realized what he said and clapped a hand against his mouth.

"Oh no," he said, his voice slightly muffled by his hand. "Daddy will be mad at me."

Harold was growing more and more confused as the minutes passed by. "What can't you tell me, boy?" he softly growled, slightly glaring at the five-year-old.

Draco shivered under his gaze and looked away. "I can't tell, Hermione's Daddy! I can't tell!" He sounded panicky, almost close to hysteria that Mister Granger chose to drop the subject off. After all (which was fairly _unfair _to him), Draco Malfoy was still just a boy.

"Fine," he said. "Tell me something about your mother, then."

"M-my Mommy?" he asked, still reeling from what had happened a while ago. "Her name's Narcissa Malfoy."

"And yet another weird name," Harold cried aloud, ignoring the surprised look on the blond's face. "What does your mother do now?"

Draco frowned. "She poses on magazines, Hermione's Daddy," he claimed. "And… and hosts huge balls every time we have our birthdays and… and during Chrstimases, too."

"Magazines? Balls?" he said, eyes bulging every after word. "I am starting to think that you are from a rich family, Draco."

He nodded his head enthusiastically. "We are! We are!" he announced. "We live in a huge manor and… and famous people go to our house." Draco proudly puffed out his chest, pride oozing out from his five-year-old form. "I have all the toys I ask from my parents that other children do not have."

"Ah," Mister Granger said, raising an eyebrow. _'A spoiled child,' _he thought, shaking his head. _'Not good for my Hermione.' _

Harold then took a deep breath, stood up into his fullest height and approached the little boy. Draco looked up at him, his adorable gray eyes wide with wonder and slight fear, and waited for him to talk.

"Okay, let's get down to business, shall we?" he asked. Mister Granger slightly leaned down, almost nose-to-nose with Draco. "We are currently having this man-to-boy talk, Draco Malfoy, because I want to know what you want from my Hermione."

Draco blinked. Thrice. "I-I want to be her friend, sir," he said, his respectful tone back once again. Harold concluded that if he was being guarded, his politeness would resurface, no matter how unsuitable it was for a little child like him.

"A friend, you say," Mister Granger said, rolling his eyes. He straightened up and started to pace back and forth, Draco's eyes following his every step. "Say, Mister Malfoy, have you heard of the word" – he stopped right in front of Draco – "_marriage_?"

A confused look settled on his face. "Ma-wage?"

"_Marriage_," Harold corrected.

Draco pouted. "Is that a game, Hermione's Daddy?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "It sounds fun."

Mister Granger scoffed, slightly affronted with what he was saying. "Marriage, little boy, is something sacred. Yes, it can be fun, but it is not supposed to be something deemed as merely a game. Do you understand me?"

The blond only stared.

Harold sighed tiredly to the heavens above and once again leaned closer to the blond. "If you are thinking of whisking away my daughter from me for marriage, child, then you are making a grievous mistake." Mister Granger's cheeks slightly colored with irritation. "I am warning you, despite your young age, I want you to _stay _away from my daughter. You will grow up as a handsome, fine boy and I am positive that you will be breaking the hearts of a lot of girls." He took a deep breath and stared squarely into his eyes. "I do not want my Hermione to experience that from the likes of you. Understand, boy?"

Draco, at first, only stared at him, unadulterated surprise on his face as he stared back at the grown man in front of him. But then, to Harold's sheer astonishment, the tell-tale signs of tears appeared. Draco's bottom lip quivered and tears gathered at the corner of his eyes.

"Good God," he announced at the same time the little boy burst into loud sobbing.

"DADDY!" Hermione exclaimed, stomping out of the kitchen with her small face screwed up into fury. "Why did you make him cry?"

Harold's eyes widened in disbelief. "I did not, Hermione. I swear," he promised, watching as his little princess dashed pass him and towards the crying boy.

"Oh, Harold," was Mrs. Granger's disapproving greeting, also stepping out of the kitchen. She was still wearing her apron as she shook her head. "Real mature."

"I did not!" he cried, looking wildly at Draco. "I was merely asking a question about marriage and he burst into tears."

"Marriage?" she asked incredulously. Jean scoffed. "He's _just _a boy, mister. What are you doing asking ridiculous questions to a mere five-year-old?"

Mister Granger scowled. "I don't care if he's a boy or a man or a _bloody_" – "HAROLD!" – "minotaur. All I am asking is for him to stay away from my daughter."

Mrs. Granger's face morphed into irritation and wagged a finger in front of his face. "We are going to talk about this later, Harold." And just like Hermione, she brushed pass him.

"I didn't do anything!" he cried once again. "Why can't anybody believe me?" He swiveled around and glared at the crying boy who was now wiping his tears with the use of his little hands.

"Stop crying, Inspector Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, also already tearful. "Please stop crying already."

And, to Mister Granger's extreme horror, Hermione enveloped him into her arms. And the insolent boy had the nerve to wrap his arms around her torso and to hold her tight.

While his wife and daughter were busily fawning over the hysterical boy, Mister Granger chanced a glare at the blond's direction, and to his surprise, he was looking at him, too. And, to increase his surprise, _ten-fold_, the scared and lost look on his face momentarily disappeared just so he could smirk above Hermione's shoulders and triumphantly stick out his tongue. The little boy even made a huge show of tightening his hold around Hermione.

Harold almost had a heart attack, eyes staring disbelievingly at the boy. _'An act!" _he cried inside his mind. _'He was merely acting!' _Oh, he had never seen such a sly and cunning person in his whole life... a five-year-old, no less!

Mister Granger labeled Draco Malfoy as a very dangerous person, no matter what his age was. Therefore, a mission had started; a mission he knew would cause him either life or death; a mission he knew would save his daughter's happiness and love.

'_You want to play?' _Harold said, glaring holes into the blond's form. _'Fine. Then let's play a game.' _

Ever since that day, Mister Harold Granger knew his life would never be the same anymore.

And it was all thanks to Draco Malfoy.

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**A/N: Well, that's was the first chapter! How'd you like it? **

**This little plot bunny bit me out of nowhere after reading one of the reviews for the "Inspector Draco Malfoy" part. So, I gave it a shot. I mean, there are quite a lot of stories about Lucius' and Narcissa's reactions every time Draco falls in love with Hermione and vice versa and there were a few, if not _none _at all, that even tells the story of what Hermione's parents' reaction would be towards this development between the supposedly enemies. **

**The next few chapters will be... interesting, I suppose. Harold Granger can be a little possessive, eh? I'm still in the process of finishing the last chapter so don't worry about the update. I think I'll update on Sunday or Monday, I'm not really sure. **

**That's it for now! Once again, I'll be more infrequent in this site. Who knew college preparations would be so busy? What more if I'm already a college student? I just know that I will be writing again soon so do watch out for me. **

**With love,  
WickedlyAwesomeMe **

**DMHGDMHGDMHGDMHGDMHGDMHGDMHG**


	2. Best Friend

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's.**

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**A/N: So, chapter two of "Mister Granger's Mission" is here! I had awesome responses for last chapter and I'm so happppppy :) **

**So, review afterwards! Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Two: Best Friend**

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"Dad?"

"Harold?"

"Me?" Mister Granger squeaked, willing his eyes to go back to their normal size. He swore he was having a heart attack as he stared at his wife and his daughter.

Hermione, now a fifteen-year-old girl, gave him a sweet smile and laughed. "Dad, why are you so surprised?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's just Draco."

_Just Draco_. "Oh, Lord, spare me," Harold exclaimed to the heavens above, making Mrs. Granger glare at him. "What are you doing, choreographing a scheme to invite the boy for summer behind my back?" He glared at his wife. "And you agreed! I thought I was the man of this house; the one who's supposed to make the final decisions!"

"Quit being melodramatic, honey," Jean said. "It's just Draco."

"Just Draco... _just Draco_?" Mr. Granger thundered. He turned his furious eyes towards his daughter and Hermione, humbled, looked down at her lap. "He called you that insult, Hermione! He had made you cry; made you feel like your first four years in Hogwarts had been a living hell."

"Dad," she started, frowning at him, "we talked about this, remember?"

And talked about it they did.

Once Hermione Granger turned eleven-years-old, the whole Granger household shook with astonishment when they discovered that she was actually a witch. No wonder she had been having some random burst of accidental magic such as burning a fairytale book she deemed stupid without using a match and conjuring Newton out of thin air once the sly cat had strayed too far away from her again.

To say that Mister Granger was surprised was a big understatement. He always thought his daughter was different, but to know that she was actually a witch was _way _different. He and Jean had allowed her to go, of course. They both talked about it and concluded that Hermione might belong to this school, Hogwarts, if she attended.

The first letter they received from her from Hogwarts was full of tearstains. And no, they weren't because she was missing them.

It turned out that the big secret that Draco Malfoy had always been hiding was that he was a from a prominent Wizarding family and he was a wizard. Mister Granger had pieced everything together, especially after hearing the word "Muggle" from a passing witch, clearly remembering the boy's slip of tongue when he was still five-years-old.

It also turned out that Draco was a bigoted Pureblood wizard. Hermione's tears were because he had ignored her the very first time they met on the Hogwarts Express, even insulting her about her being a 'nosy, know-it-all'.

It had broke Mister Granger's heart that his daughter was so devastated over this. She and Draco had been friends up until they were nine-years-old. After that, he had completely disappeared. It had somehow relieved him but seeing his daughter missing the boy had pained him. And now that he showed, completely different from the polite (but sly) boy he once knew was unnerving.

Thus, his determination to accomplish his mission had increased.

She was able to manage to survive her first year, especially since she found new best friends such as the famous Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. When Mister Granger heard of this, he scowled once again. He thought that with Malfoy as his daugther's enemy was a step forward but once the two came into the picture he took two steps back.

When she became a second year student, her newfound bitterness towards Draco had continued. And then, he started to call her the 'M-word'. Once again, Hermione had sent a tearful letter to her parents, stating how she was so hurt for being insulted by him of all people and ranting and ranting why he was changed and all.

Harold was tempted to go to Hogwarts to complain to Headmaster Dumbledore but Jean reasoned out that they are Muggles, they would not be able to understand the beliefs and ideologies of magical people, especially the Purebloods.

Hence, once again, he was forced to read the pained letters from her daughter.

And then, one letter addressed to them from Dumbledore came, stating that their daughter was petrified by a basilisk. Although he had no idea what a basilisk was, he knew that his daughter was in danger and immediately went to Hogwarts, a devastated Jean in tow.

To his surprise, it was remorseful Draco who had greeted them and brought them to the infirmary. Their walk was a tensed, silent one. Once they arrived, Draco wordlessly gestured them inside. Mister Granger completely ignored him, all the tearstained letters of his daughter in his mind, and merely went inside without a single glance back.

Before they could completely enter, Draco said, "I have my own reasons, sir. I am sorry."

Weeks had passed with the couple worrying over their daughter's welfare. Another owl from the Headmaster came, stating that Hermione was well already and she would be free to go back for her summer vacation.

Hermione sent them a letter, this time saying that she was sorry for being reckless and making them worry. The tone of her letter was very light and extremely happy; Mister Granger did wonder. At the latter part of her letter, he understood. Turned out that it was _Draco Malfoy _who had been determined enough to help Madam Pomfrey brew the antidote for their petrification.

"_He apologized to me, Daddy," _she said in her letter. _"He said his reasons which I cannot disclose. But do know that I've already forgiven him. Please do not be mad at him anymore." _

Mister Granger had literally seen red, especially because his _logical _and _reasonable _daughter easily forgave a boy that had been insulting her by calling her the most loathsome word in the whole world.

Jean, skeptical, further inquisited Hermione once she came back. In the end, she understood that Draco was currently undergoing a very rough time in his life, despite his age. Hermione claimed he needed a friend, and she still wanted to be one to him; hence, the forgiveness.

Their bond of friendship strengthened by their third year. There was just one incident when Draco had become really mad at her for punching him in the face.

"_He was insulting Buckbeak, Daddy!" _she exclaimed, words slightly blurred by her tears. _"And I just got hurt that he was using such words against an innocent creature. And the Slytherin had the nerve to get mad at me when both he and I know that he was at fault here. Now, he wouldn't talk to me. What should I do, Daddy? He's pushing himself away from me again." _

It was Mrs. Granger who replied to their daughter's letter, insisting after hearing Harold's rejoice and 'thank yous' to the heaven's above. Once again, she reprimanded him for taking their fight so lightly. She reminded him that Draco was undergoing difficulties in his household and losing a friend might ruin his life. Therefore, Mister Granger merely sullenly stared as Jean wrote her advice to their daugther.

He discovered they made up, which had greatly disappointed him, but after seeing Hermione so cheerful and happy from her third year in Hogwarts, the disappointment disappeared.

And now that she was almost a fifth year student, her secret friendship wtih Draco tightened. She even addresses him as her best friend already in her letters.

It was the summer before her fifth year and Mister Granger just discovered today that Jean and Hermione had invited Draco to spend his last weeks of summer with them.

"But honey…"

"But what, Dad?" Hermione asked, her frown deepening. "It's the first summer without his…" She pursed her lips and stared. Mister Granger's eyes narrowed into thin slits.

"His summer without what, Hermione?" he pressed on.

Hermione sighed. "I can't - ."

" – tell?" her father asked. "Is that it?"

"Dad…"

"Hermione," he said, slightly beseeching. "Are you sure it is a good idea to befriend this boy?"

"DAD!"

Mister Granger sighed. "Listen to me, sweetheart," he said, his voice softer. "I mean, you are keeping secrets from us all becaue of this boy. Didn't we promise to be honest with each other."

The brunette looked away. "He has reasons, Daddy," she said. "I can't tell. I will be destroying his trust, then."

"What if this secret of his is causing your life?" he asked, watching as his daughter's face paled. He somehow knew that Draco's family, especially his father, was a dangerous figure in Hogwarts. He heard from Arthur Weasley, Ron's father.

"He's my best friend," she said. "He trusts me, Dad. So please, please,_ please_, allow him to stay here with us for just a few weeks, okay? He promises to be good. He told me to tell you that."

She was giving him that puppy dog eyes again. Sheer stupidity, remember?

"Oh, fine," he sighed in resignation. Hermione grinned widely. "_But, _if he hurt you or made you cry, I'm going to kick him out of this house."

"He's a good boy," she said with a smile.

Mister Granger rolled his eyes. "A good boy," he said. "Right."

* * *

Harold felt like he was watching his five-year-old Hermione all over again.

"Is he here yet?" she asked, dashing out from her room towards the sofa. She climbed up on it, peeked outside the window, then stepped down from the couch once again. And then, she jogged towards their front door, opened it with a bang, and looked left to right for any sign of her best friend.

"He's not yet here," Mister Granger said. "Sweetheart, can you sit down? You're giving me a headache."

Hermione sheepishly smiled and sat down on the sofa. "I'm sorry, Dad," she said. "I'm just excited to see him."

He scowled. "You've been with him for the whole school-year, honey," he pointed. "I bet you're not _that _excited to see me after being away from me for ten months."

The brunette stuck out her tongue. "How immature, Dad," she said.

Harold pointedly stared at her gesture. "Look who's talking, Hermione," he said.

She smiled. "I guess I only learned from the best," she said, standing up to hug him.

Mister Granger patted her back and fondly smiled at his daughter. Warmth spread through his whole form when she looked up at him adoringly. "I guess you do."

That was the reason why he hated Draco Malfoy. He wanted his daughter all to himself.

Just then, their doorbell rang and Hermione stood up with a soft shriek of excitement.

"He's here!" she exclaimed, dashing toward the door. Mister Granger merely watched as she opened the door and greeted the person outside.

"Inspector Draco Malfoy, what a pleasant surprise," she greeted, a teasing grin on her face. Mister Granger watched as a small smile appeared on the boy's face, regarding her daughter with warmth in his beautiful gray eyes.

Harold glared.

"Is he here?" Mrs. Granger asked, peeking outside the kitchen door.

"Hello, Mrs. Granger," Draco greeted, inclining his head.

"Oh, Draco, look how much you've grown!" Jean cried and completely walked out from the kitchen to envelop the fifteen-year-old boy into a hug.

It was clear to Harold that the gesture had immensely surprised the blond. Well, he couldn't blame him. After all, Hermione's mother just discovered that he had mocked her and her parents for the early parts of his year and he wasn't expecting such a warm greeting from her mother.

"How have you been?" she asked.

Draco blinked. "I-I've been fine, Mrs. Granger. Thank you," he said, clearing his throat. "A-and how about you?"

Jean laughed and pulled away from their hug. "No need to act so polite to me now, Draco," she said. "Just call me Jean."

"_Jean_," Harold emphasized. "The cooking. Remember?"

"Tsk, Harold, really," Mrs. Jean said.

Mr. Granger rolled his eyes, now looking back at Draco. To his surprise, the blond was also staring back at him.

"Mr. Granger," he said.

The protectiveness in him resurfaced as he stared at his daughter. "If you are expecting me to let you call me as 'Harold', then you are utterly mistaken, boy."

"Harold!"

"DAD!"

Hermione's eyes turned into fire. "Please," she said, glaring at him. "Be good."

Mr. Granger scowled and turned his back, feeling the blond's eyes on him. "I'll be waiting for dinner."

"Oh, speaking of dinner," Mrs. Granger said as he took a few steps back to their bedroom to take a nap. "Hermione, sweetheart, I think I do not have enough chicken meat for our dinner tonight. Can you be a dear and buy it for me?"

"Of course, Mom," he hard his daughter say.

There was a pause as Harold walked up the stairs.

"Do you want to go with me, Draco?" she asked.

"Of course."

Mister Granger halted.

"Oh, Hermione, let him rest for a while. He just arrived. ," Jean said.

"It's all right Mrs… err, _Jean_," the blond said. "I will accompany her."

"All right," his wife said. "Now, off you go so that I can prepare our dinner now. Be careful!"

"We will, Mom, see you later." And with that, the door closed with a soft bang. Now, it was only Mrs. Granger who was left in the living room.

Harold counted from one to ten before dashing down the stairs towards the window. Mrs. Granger looked at him in surprise.

"Where are you going?" she asked, flabbergasted.

"I'll be back before dinner," he said, hastily kissing her cheek goodbye. "I just remembered that I have this annual bonsai meeting in the park near here."

"Bonsai meeting?" Jean asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Not now, Jean," Harold said, walking out of the door.

"Harold? HAROLD!"

But then, he was far too gone already.

* * *

"Good Lord, why are you doing this to me?" Mister Granger beseeched to the heavens above as he hastily hid behind the shelf filled with canned tuna. "This is too much for my old heart, dear God. Please spare me."

Harold was inside the Express Mart, a supermarket that was nearest to their house, and currently, he was spying his daughter and her best friend.

It was clear to him that the blond was mesmerized by everything that he was seeing in the market. Oh, especially the automatic doors. He swore Draco had stuck out his hand countless times just so he could watch the door sensor his movement and automatically open. If he were to accompany the said boy, he would have melted into a puddle of embarrassment already.

But Hermione… good god, she looked like she was enjoying! Perhaps it was because of the endearing look on Draco Malfoy's face? Mister Granger made a face. Girls were little suckers to adorable boys. It was enough for Harold to imagine ruining the pretty face of his daughter's best friend.

"What are those?" he heard the boy say, awed.

He watched as Hermione stared at where he was pointing at. "Oh, that?" His daughter smiled. "Those are pushcarts. They help you carry the things you'll be buying." Hermione pulled one and gave it to Draco. "Here, give it a push."

The blond did what he was told and blinked. "Wow," he said, making another stupid look on his face.

Hermione laughed and playfully punched his arm. "It's nothing to be amazed about," she pointed out. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, making her sheepishly smile. "Oh, all right. You're a _Pureblood_; anything Muggle amazes you."

Unable to help it, Mister Granger snorted. Hermione's hair whipped around, a suspicious look on her face. "Did you hear that?" she asked, looking around wildly. Harold hid himself farther away from his daughter's eyes.

"Hear what?" Harold could hear the distraction in Draco's voice.

Hermione sighed. "Well, never mind," she said. "Come on. Mom is probably waiting for us already."

* * *

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry about my father," Hermione said.

Mister Granger straightened his back and pressed himself harder against, this time, a shelf full of nappies. His daughter and the boy were already done with their shopping and were now waiting for the clerk to finish packing the things they had bought.

"Your father?" he heard the boy asked. Harold took a peek and saw the troubled look on Hermione's face and the handsome smirk present on Draco's face. "What about him?"

Hermione frowned. "Well, he has been nothing to you but rude," she pointed out.

Harold made a noise at the back of his throat. Draco seemed to hear him because he looked at his direction. Mr. Granger hastily hid again behind the shelf and prayed to God he was not seen.

"What? What is it?" he heard his daughter ask.

Draco was silent for a while before saying, "Nothing, nothing. I thought I saw somebody familiar…" He cleared his throat. "As for your father, I think I'm getting the gist why he's hostile to me."

'_He does?' _Harold asked, surprised. Because frankly, it was making him frustrated that his family never understood. And for the boy to claim he somehow understood, he was surprised. And begrudgingly impressed.

"You do?" He could hear the surprise in Hermione's voice. "Why do you think so?"

The blond chuckled. "I think you're father's going to kill me if I revealed it to you," he said.

Hermione growled. "And now you're keeping secrets from me!" she accused. "Come to think of it, you still haven't told me why you cried when we were five-years-old."

Mister Granger snorted, guessing the embarrassment Draco was feeling. After all, sobbing moments of men were not really their most memorable memories.

"It's between men," Draco said. Harold smiled. He could hear the scowl in his voice.

"_It's between men,_" Hermione mimicked. "You boys are really something, huh?"

The blond chuckled once more. "You're a girl. You won't understand," he said.

Hermione scoffed. "Ah, really," she said. "The infamous _'You're a girl. I'm a boy' _line. Bloody sexist."

"Bloody feminist," he pointed out.

His daughter laughed. "Ooh, touché."

The clerk had cut off their little banter by saying that Hermione had to pay already. Harold immediately emerged out from his hiding place, not wanting to lose the two.

"Draco, cut it out!" Hermione exclaimed. Once again, the teenaged boy was playing with the automatic door, this time swinging the plastic bag back and forth.

"What? It's bloody amazing," he claimed, but followed her nonetheless. They finally walked outside the supermarket and Harold dashed so that he could not lose them.

Hermione and Draco waited at the bus stop, the plastic bags still clutched tightly in their hands. Mister Granger was positive that his daughter was struggling to hold the heavy package and he was tempted to run towards her and rescue her from the burden she was currently experiencing, but the boy had beaten him into it.

"You know," he had said, "if you do not take care of your wand hand, you will never been able to perfect the Patronus Charm."

"Oh, shut up, I can… HEY!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What? You were struggling," he pointed out. "Hence, I relieved you from your burden."

"I can carry it, thank you very much," she grumbled, glaring petulantly at the single bag she was now holding.

"Are we going to fight over this trivial thing, too?" he asked, a cheeky smile on his face. "Fighting with you everyday is taking its toll on me already, Granger."

Hermione merely puffed out her cheeks and shook her head. "You are impossible, Draco Malfoy. Do you know that?" she asked.

"You just noticed it now?" he asked with faux surprise. "I had been trying my best to be anything but impossible to you all my life, Hermione Granger."

The brunette grinned. "Fine, fine," she said.

Their conversation was cut short when the bus arrived. Draco hastily scrambled up the bus, even dashing past a surprised brunette. Mister Granger almost made a fit, the lines _'Ladies first' _ringing wildly inside his head. But then, his jaw slightly dropped when the boy juggled all of the packages on his left hand just so he could stick out his right hand to help Hermione up.

"Good Merlin, I think I should have more alone time with you," Hermione pointed out, clutching his hand and pulling herself up the bus. "It still surprises me that you're not that pretentious bastard walking all over the Hogwarts corridors acting like you own the whole bloody universe."

Draco cracked a grin. "I live to surprise one Hermione Granger, miss," he said.

As soon as the two were completely inside the bus, Mister Granger snapped out of his surprised stupor and ran for the door. Thankfully, the bus driver was able to spot him. Harold nodded a greeting to the bus driver and hastily slid himself down on the very first vacant chair he could see. The bus was strangely empty, save for a sleeping old woman and her pet cat. Hermione and Draco chose a seat at the very back of the bus, which was convenient for Harold, because he would not be seen.

It was nearing twilight already, and the street lamps were being lit. Mister Granger looked outside the window and he could already see shopkeepers closing down their shops. Through the window, he could also see the reflection of his daughter and her best friend, talking animatedly to each other.

Harold cursed his old age, already having a slight hearing problem. He had to try his very best to strain his ears just so he could clearly hear what they were talking about. Shifting, he pressed himself closer to their direction and started to catch snippets of their conversation.

"… father?"

Hermione had just finished asking a question and it made Harold curious as to why Draco had made such a sour expression on his face.

"Didn't we promise to make this two weeks of summer _fun _and void of any _stressful _things?" the blond snarled, which prompted Mister Granger to frown. It was clear that the boy's cheerful mood had drastically dropped to a nasty one.

His daughter sighed, a worried look crossing on her face. "It's getting frequent, Draco," she pointed out. "Don't you think it's time for you to get some… I dunno… help?"

"From whom?" Draco scoffed. "From your almighty Dumbledore?" Hermione gave him a pointed look and he slightly glared in return. "We've talked about this already, Hermione. Nobody can help me. This is something between my family and me. So, can we drop this topic off?"

"But…" Hermione claimed, but stopped herself in the end. The brunette took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and finally rested her head at the backrest of the seat. "If you wish it, then."

A tensed silence settled between the two teenagers. Mister Granger had this strange feeling that what they were conversing about a while ago was nowhere near lighthearted. He had never seen the boy so enraged like that; only in Hermione's letters.

"I'm sorry," Draco suddenly said, reaching for Hermione's hand and giving it a squeeze. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

The brunette cracked a small, sad smile and gingerly placed her head on top his shoulder. "I'm sorry, too," she said. "I promised to give you a good break but I'm insisting for us to talk about this topic. I'll never ask it again."

"_Never_?" Draco asked with an eyebrow raise.

A sheepish smile flitted on Hermione's face. "Well, probably not 'never'… but, not for the whole summer break."

The blond laughed. "Figures," he said. "But I'll be able to appreciate it if you drop off your inquisition for a while."

Hermione smiled up at him and reached out for his hand again. "I promise to do that," she said. Just then, a thought crossed her mind. "Although, I think my father will be at the back of your throat for a while."

Harold's heart broke into millions of pieces. His daughter had no enough trust on him! Although, he didn't really doubt her because he made it clear that he did not exactly like her best friend. But still! She could give him some credit. He was, after all, an adult (a respectable one in their neighborhood); hence, he could act mature if he wanted to.

'_Mature, pssh,' _a little voice inside his mind scoffed. _'And look what you are doing, Harold! Spying on teenagers! Yes, mature. Very mature.' _

"Oh, shut up," he growled, prompting the old lady (who now had woken up) to look at him strangely. Harold looked at her and gave her a smile. The old lady merely glared at him and went back to sleeping.

"Your father's a good man," Draco said.

Harold blinked.

Wait. _What_?

"Wait. _What_?" Hermione exclaimed, disbelief clearly heard in the tone of her voice.

The blond smirked. "Surprised I said that?" he asked. Was it just him or did Mister Granger see him pointedly look at the back of the seat he was sitting on. "Oh, he can be rude, all right, but he only thinks about your safety. Apparently, though, he thinks I'm dangerous."

The brunette blinked at him, her eyebrows slowly creasing. "You? _Dangerous_?" she asked in disbelief. "Why?"

A small, mysterious smile appeared on his face and this time, Harold was so sure Draco was looking straight at him. "_I _have no idea."

Mister Granger's eyes narrowed.

The boy was positively lying.

* * *

"How was your trip to the supermarket, Draco?" Jean asked as soon as they gathered around the dining table. She was sitting on the left side of Harold, who was at the head of the table. Hermione was sitting on her father's right side and finally, Draco sat beside the brunette.

"Fascinating," Draco answered. And then, he started narrating animatedly his experience in the said store, making it clear that he did have a good time.

While he was mesmerizing the two women on the table, Mister Granger contemplated. He was now sure that the boy somehow knew, if not _completely _knew, what he was doing… _why _he was being a completely git to the said blond.

'_He is far more perceptive than I thought,' _Harold mused, thoughtfully looking at the smiling boy. A small ounce of respect blossomed in Mister Granger for Draco but there was no way in hell he would voice out this newfound respect to the blond.

Harold finally concluded that separating Draco Malfoy from his precious daughter would be more difficult, especially now that Hermione was so attached to the said boy. But he was a Granger, and Grangers never give up. The challenge merely fuelled his determination and he swore to the cosmic powers above that he would accomplish his mission and ultimately be the victorious one in the end.

* * *

**A/N: So, how'd you like it? Good? Bad? Eh? Meh? **

**Once again, this story is a spin-off from one of the chapters in "Alphabet Love". So, if people are wondering what the heck is with this "Inspector Draco Malfoy" thing, do read that chapter in "Alphabet Love" and maybe you'll understand :)**

**Things are getting quicker because, need I remind you, this story will only be a five-chaptered one. So, yeah, I jump from one age to another. XD I hope you understand that; I kinda summarized everything that had happened from their first to fourth year in a few paragraphs through Harold's perspective. I mean, hey, this is not entirely a Dramione romance; this is a story told through the eyes of Hermione's dad. Therefore, he can tell the story of his daughter and her best friend through a short summary XD **

**That's it for now, my lovely darlings. I think I'll update this coming Friday!**

**With love,  
WickedlyAwesomeMe**

**P.S. Do ignore the grammatical errors. I'm a little distracted now so I had no time to proofread this chapter all over again. Hope you understand!**


	3. Boyfriend

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's :)**

* * *

**A/N: Wee, chapter three of "Mister Granger's Mission" is finally here! I'm half-way done with the story and I'm so happy you, my dear readers, are loving it so far. **

**Once again, I skipped some years, although this time a shorter gap. Eh, what the heck, you'll understand it anyway XD **

**So yeah, do review afterwards. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Boyfriend**

* * *

The boy was being abused at home.

Just that fact had made Mister Granger reeling. He just discovered by the end of Hermione's sixth year that Draco Malfoy was being abused at home, by his _father _no less. The urgency in her letter had alarmed even him. Poor, poor Jean had burst into tears upon reading her letter, especially since it had stated that their daughter's best friend was currently confined in St. Mungo's due to a dark spell that had hit him.

After much coaxing from Mrs. Granger, Harold finally relented to visit the boy. Oh, he must not be mistaken. He still _despises _the boy but he was still human. And he was sure that if he refused, Jean would sign their divorce papers.

Their visit had been memorable to Harold. The smirking, sly boy he remembered was lying sickly on top of the bed, weird lights enclosing his body. Mister Granger subconsciously guessed the lights were akin to the machines in the muggle hospitals, only this time produced by magic.

Hermione had been an emotional wreck when they visited. She was the only one who was in Draco's room and it was somehow dreary. A small pang of sympathy blossomed in Harold's heart, thinking that his father was probably doing some evil deeds out there. And the boy's mother… _where was she? _

The blond was confined for a whopping two months before he finally woke up. It was miracle, he heard from Hermione. It was a miracle because the Healers of St. Mungo's were all convinced that he would die. After all, he was unresponsive to the medicinal potions and spells administered to him. But they were happy, nonetheless.

The brunette had stated that his recovery was a mystery to all. _'They said it might probably be Merlin-at-work,' _she stated in her letter, her handwriting a little shaky due to unsuppressed mirth. _'He's okay now, Dad, Mom. He's perfectly fine. He's finally safe.' _

It was so obvious that Hermione had never been so relieved in her life. It had somehow astounded Mister Granger, noticing that her care for Draco Malfoy was too huge. Astounding, really.

Another thing that had bothered him was a statement from the blond, which Hermione quoted in her letter. _'He said he could always hear my voice,' _she penned. _'And it was the only reason why he struggled to return.' _

Such a simple statement from a boy, but Harold knew better. It was, without a fact, a sentence with a subliminal meaning and Mister Granger knew he better brace himself.

And good lord, how right was he.

Imagine his shock when Hermione Granger announced during their final dinner before she returned back to Hogwarts for her seventh year that she was, in fact, dating Draco Malfoy.

_The _Draco Malfoy.

Harold did not talk to his daughter for the remainder of her night. All sweet and caring gestures from his daughter were futile. Mister Granger was definitely furious.

That night, Jean talked to Harold, cajoling him to accept the blossoming relationship between his daughter and the boy. _'I had seen it coming, anyway,' _she had said, complete with an amused smile on her face when Harold's nostrils flared. _'Don't tell me you did not see it coming, too?' _

Oh, he saw it coming, all right. That was why he was wasting his time on his bloody mission to separate Hermione from Draco Malfoy, after all. The night when Hermione announced this information, Harold did not sleep. All he could think of was imaginations about ridding the world of the smirking blond. His mood did not waver, despite recalling that the boy used to be abused mercilessly in his own home; a place where he was supposed to be living happily and safe.

Hermione's seventh year in Hogwarts then started. Judging through her letters, Mister Granger was able to notice that she was extremely careful not to say anything about her current romantic relationship with Draco in fear that her father would make a fit and do stupid things that could embarrass Hermione. She was afraid she might reveal to the whole school that she and Draco were dating, too. After all, Harold learned how to simply use a Howler from the Weasley twins and she was afraid he might use that kind of magic.

But her exclusion of her relationship with Draco had further infuriated Harold. _'What are they doing now?' _he always found himself asking after reading one of Hermione's vague letters. It made him uneasy, especially because his daughter was the Head Girl and the boy was her counterpart; therefore, they were living under the same roof.

"Harold?" his wife interrupted, walking inside his study room.

He lifted his head and looked at his wife. He noticed that she was clutching a parchment and he frowned. "Another letter from Hermione?" he asked.

Jean nodded and sat down beside him. "She's asking if she could invite Draco for Christmas," she stated.

Harold's eyes darkened. "No," was his blunt answer.

His wife smiled and clutched his hand. "I knew you would say that," she said. "And so did Hermione. But understand, Harold, that Draco's being abused at his own home. Dumbledore advised for him not to go back to his house for Christmas and Hermione thought she could invite him over for the holiday."

"I said _no_, Jean," he spat, frowning petulantly. "My answer's final."

Jean sighed exasperatedly. "Your daughter is dating him," she said. "Deal with it, Harold. Hermione's growing up. It's perfectly natural for her to have a boyfriend now."

"But not Draco Malfoy," he cried defiantly. "Anyone but him. Why didn't she choose her other best friend? What was his name again? That Ron Weasley? He's a decent bloke and I had this inkling that he fancies our daughter."

His wife tutted and placed Hermione's letter down on the table. "But Hermione doesn't like him. She likes _Draco_. Therefore, we are inviting him here for Christmas so that he won't spend it in his own house."

"I don't care," said Harold, crossing his arms.

"Must you be so stubborn?" Mrs. Granger asked, rolling her eyes heavenward imploringly. "Well, you have no say about this matter anymore. I sent a letter to Hermione saying that Draco could come over to celebrate Christmas with us."

"JEAN!"

"Sorry, love, I wanted Draco to be happy, too," was Jean's only reply as she stood up from her seat and strolled out of the room.

Harold bristled on his seat and glared at Hermione's letter.

Oh, the prices he had to pay just to make his daughter happy.

* * *

"Ready, love?" Jean asked him as she strapped her skating shoes.

Harold sighed and frowned at his wife. "You very well know that my limbs ache from too much ice skating," he reminded her, wagging a finger. "Do you expect me to join you in that blasted ice skating rink and hurt myself?"

His wife was unfazed and merely laughed. "Oh, Harold, I know you are upset that Draco's spending Christmas at home, but can you at least show your daughter that you're very happy to see her?" she asked, coaxing him to put on his own skating shoes.

Mister Granger grumbled, strapped the shoes, and held his wife's hand as they slid into the rink.

Three days ago, his daughter and her boyfriend came home from Hogwarts. They had greeted both of them in the King's Cross, although, Harold clearly remembered the dark glare he hurtled towards the man that stole his daughter's heart.

The boy looked healthier as opposed to the bedridden and comatose teenager he last saw in St. Mungo's. He was happy, too, he noticed, although there was this distinct limp in his right leg every time he walked. At the corner of his eyes, Harold had been watching him closely as he was assisted by Hermione to their car.

The wounds had completely healed, that much he knew, but Harold guessed there were still scars that were present. And he didn't mean physical scars only.

Yes, there was pity. Still, he was not very happy to see him. Harold actually had no idea what was worse seeing: a smirking, cocky Pureblood or an unconscious, almost lifeless boy. Whatever he chose, both would be equally unpleasant.

Hermione had been a little distant from him, even positively wary. She was attached to the boy, he had noticed. There was this protectiveness that seemed to overcome her every time Draco Malfoy was in the vicinity. And she always had this idea that Harold would scold her every time she neared him, seeing that she was suddenly dating the boy which was commonly known as someone Harold did not really like.

Thus, he was forced to act at least a little civil towards Draco. When he and Hermione would approach him, Harold would just erase Draco's image from his mind and focus solely on his daughter. It works every time and now, his daughter was starting to be his sweet daughter to him once again.

Now, they were in the ice skating rink a few blocks away from home. It was Hermione who suggested it, meaning to teach Draco Malfoy, who surprisingly had no idea how to ice skate. And so, here was the whole family plus the blond.

Jean made it a point to distance herself and her husband away from the couple. _"They deserve some alone time, sweetheart," _she assured him one time when he grumbled that they were drifting away from his daughter and her boyfriend.

His wife was now off to the loo and Harold was left alone, gliding around the ice skating rink. His eyes magnetized towards the center, where his daughter was currently teaching Draco. He was a hopeless case, he noted. The blond seemed like he could not skate to save his life. His face was as red as a tomato and Harold basked at the embarrassing moment of the cocky boy.

His daughter, on the other hand, seemed like she was enjoying herself. Good lord, the grin she was sporting almost reached her ears. Harold wondered if her lips were hurting already. Nonetheless, his daughter was happy and he watched the couple silently.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, the blond once again falling on his bum. Harold smirked as Hermione's boyfriend scowled darkly at her laughing face.

"You think this is funny, Granger!" he growled, unconsciously gripping her forearms to heave himself up. His feet slid without control and Hermione had to wrap an arm around his waist to steady himself.

"Aww, is Drakie-poo having a hard time," she cooed, touching his nose with her index finger. He scowled, swatted her finger away, and glared at her. "Fine, fine," she laughed, tightening her grip of his waist. "I'll hold onto you now so that you won't fall."

His glare darkened. "Don't patronize me, Hermione," he said. "I can do this myself. All I need to do is to prac – OW!"

People looked at the couple, which prompted the brunette to sheepishly smile. In spite of himself, Harold laughed at the scene in front of him. Draco was once again sitting on his bum, who apparently had fallen when Hermione released her grip of him.

"HERMIONE!" he roared, which attracted the attention of the whole ice skating rink population again.

His daughter shushed him and stifled a laugh as she pulled him up again and securely wrapped an arm around his waist. "Just follow my lead," she said, "and I won't let you fall."

Draco glared, and then sighed, before nodding his head and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

The couple had glided all throughout the rink. Harold tried his best not to meet them, because he knew their moment would be broken.

It was weird for him to steer clear from their direction when all he wanted to do before was to separate his daughter from the dangerous boy. Draco Malfoy has a dark life, and he did not want his Hermione getting engulfed by the same darkness.

But strangely, their effect on each other seemed the other way around. Hermione, his daughter so full of light and goodness, was the one _engulfing _all the light she was emitting on the boy. Just looking at Draco made Harold realized that the boy was a changed man. _Hermione _had changed him.

"Harold?" Jean asked, gliding beside him. She followed his line of direction and knowingly smiled at him.

He, on the other hand, scowled at his wife. "What?" he asked.

Mrs. Granger shrugged her shoulders and smiled, directing her gaze back at the happy couple. "Nothing, Harold," she said. "Nothing."

* * *

Christmases always equated family reunions in the Granger household. Jean's siblings would arrive, together with their own respective families. His relatives, on the other hand, would also visit their house just so they could all celebrate Christmas together.

His mother, Grandma Emma, would be coming, too, and Harold was a little nervous on how things would end tonight. His mother, although very old, was still sharp and most of the time grumpy. Jean had once pointed out that he inherited those traits from his mother.

"Dad?" Hermione said, peeking inside his study room. He completely looked at her, smiled, and then gestured her in.

His daughter beamed at him and completely strolled inside. Harold's heart swelled at the simple beauty exuded by Hermione. She was wearing a blue, dinner dress fit for their approaching Christmas party. Her hair was loosely tied with a few tendrils of her hair framing her face.

It somehow became a custom in the Granger household to wear semi-casual attires during their family reunions. Hence, Harold chose that time to wear a blue polo and blue slacks.

"Mom said you must come out now," she said, voicing out her reason for barging in his study room. "Aunt Sophie and Uncle Roderick are here."

Harold smiled and stood up. "I'll be there in a minute, sweetheart," he said. Hermione nodded and then walked out of the room.

Once she was gone, Harold straightened his polo and took a deep breath.

Tonight, he would make sure that everything would go on smoothly.

* * *

Everything was in utter chaos and no once seemed notice it except Harold. Everybody seemed to talk at the same time and truth be told, a headache was starting to form.

What made him angrier was the fact that his mother, the infamous Grandma Emma, took a great liking to her granddaughter's boyfriend. It had surprised him, _immensely_, because his mother was a grumpy, old woman who never really liked people immediately. It took Emma for quite a few years to finally accept that her Harold had fallen in love with Jean.

He was within their earshot when Emma, Hermione, and the boy were talking. Judging from the ruddy cheeks of Hermione and the proud, smug smile on Draco's face, they were talking about something embarrassing.

"Oh, you know, my 'Mione?" the old lady blubbered, holding one of Draco's arm. "When she was a baby, she had turned my husband into a terrible shade of blue when she started crying. A very hilarious incident, my boy, and that was when he realized that our Hermione is something special."

"Grandma," Hermione said, warning her grandmother from spouting more embarrassing things about her little past.

"Oh, don't mind this old lady," Emma continued, grinning widely at the couple. "Just run along and have fun." And then, leaning slightly, she lightly warned Hermione, "And my dear, this old is coveting for a great-grandchild already. When are you going to give me one?"

"GRANDMA!" was his daughter's shrill cry that some of their relatives looked at their direction.

Draco, unable to help it, burst into loud laughter and casually placed a hand at the small of her back. "You'll be the first one to know, Emma."

Harold's scowl mirrored Hermione's as his daughter elbowed her boyfriend.

"You're enjoying this," he heard her say accusingly and the boy merely smiled innocently. Harold's scowl darkened.

His wife then arrived beside him and offered a glass of red wine. "Who knew Emma would take an immediate liking to Draco?" she voiced aloud. Jean threw a knowing look at Harold's direction, which prompted him to roll his eyes.

"It doesn't mean I accept the boy already," he mumbled under his breath. Jean laughed, looped an arm around his waist, and directed him towards Jean's sister, Sophie and her husband, Roderick.

"Drop the grumpy mood, love," she said. "It's Christmas and it would be best if you're enjoying now."

Harold sighed, shot another look at the now laughing, young couple. The smile that was spread on his daughter's face was infectious; he soon found himself smiling slightly as he looked back at Jean. "Yes, you're right," he said. And for the rest of the evening, everything was uneventful.

* * *

Harold sat up on the bed in resignation. Jean stirred on their bed, cracked an eye, and beckoned him back to sleep.

"Go to sleep, love," he said, leaning down and kissing Jean's forehead. "I have something to check."

He then wore his slippers and noiselessly walked out of their room.

Harold had this strange feeling ever since the Christmas party had ended. All of their relatives had gone home. With a little help from Hermione's magic, the mess that was left was immediately fixed and the entire family, including Draco Malfoy, had gone off to bed.

The strange feeling, something akin to apprehension, had started once the end of the party neared. He had seen the sudden miserable look on his daughter's face and he could sense that something had happened between her and the boy. It made him bristle in anger, seeing _that _look on his daughter's face. It made him think that it was the boy's fault and it took him all of his willpower not to confront the Malfoy and reprimand him for making his daughter look like that.

He had no idea why he suddenly felt apprehension. He knew that the two would not break their promise of "fooling around" if they were inside the Granger household, especially under the authority of Harold. Although he did not trust Draco entirely, he knew that his daughter was too good to break such a stern promise she had made to his father.

'_So why am I feeling jumpy again?' _he asked himself, arriving in front of the door of his daughter's room. He reached for the doorknob, turned it and pushed the door open. He peeked inside, even opening the lights, but was horrified to discover that his daughter was not on her bed.

He immediately took off to Draco's room, which was located at the farthest room from his daughter. Harold readied himself to reprimand the blond as he opened his door but was further surprised when he, too, was missing.

Instantly, Harold panicked. _'Where had they gone off to?' _he asked himself, running to the kitchen and checking the loos to see if the two were "fooling around". To his great disappointment, they were uninhibited. Harold finally decided to check outside the winter wonderland but then paused upon seeing his daughter on the front porch, only wearing her robe on top of her thin pajamas.

But what alarmed Harold were the tears falling down from her eyes. He almost walked outside to comfort Hermione, but then, Draco Malfoy came into the picture, a grave expression plastered on his face.

Intrigued, Harold quietly walked towards the nearby window and opened it noiselessly. A huge gush of wind rushed inside their house and he shivered. He peeked outside and was relieved that neither of the two noticed the arrival of the eavesdropper.

Scowling at himself, Harold thought that he'd been eavesdropping an awful lot already, especially if it involves the couple.

"Hermione…"

Harold's back straightened against the wall and he turned his head away from the window. He waited for any response from Hermione to the boy's plea, but all he heard was Hermione's continuous cries.

"I have to go back," Draco continued softly. Frowning, Harold turned his head to look outside and the scene outside almost broke his heart.

Hermione's tears turned uncontrollable and Harold had to stop himself from rushing outside and gathering his distressed daughter into his arms. The boy, on the other hand, was looking at her beseechingly. It had somehow surprised Harold that the usual smirking and arrogant blond was capable of showing such emotions on his face.

"Y-you can't," his daughter hiccupped, drawing Harold's attention to her.

"It's Dumbledore's orders," Draco answered, releasing a sigh of resignation. "I swore I'd go back after spending Christmas with you and your family."

Hermione's eyes dangerously flashed despite the tears. "Why didn't you tell me?" she accused, poking a finger against Draco's chest. Harold was slightly impressed the boy did not flinch at all.

"Because you wouldn't agree," he said.

She looked at him in exasperation, glared, and then shied away from his reaching hand.

"Don't be like this," Draco begged, stepping closer to the witch.

Hermione's face showed utter agony and terror. She covered her whole face with her hands and continued to sob behind her palms. "What if you don't go back anymore?" she whispered with so much fear; Harold had felt it.

With three big strides, Draco was in front of Hermione. He engulfed her into a heartfelt embrace. Hermione's cries resounded all throughout the front porch and it reached Harold's old heart, piercing every corner of his living organ.

"I'll go with you," she tearfully said. "_Please_, let me go with you."

Harold's heart froze. His Hermione in the den of dangerous wizards? _'No_,_' _he firmly thought. Even though she groveled in front of him, even she swore she would run away and follow Draco, _even _if she would forever hate him, he would never, _ever _agree.

"_No_," was Draco's firm reply. Harold's jaw hanged open, looking at the boy disbelievingly. "No," he repeated. "You're going to stay here and give me a peace of mind that you're safe." Draco raised his eyes and directly stared inside the house, just where Harold was peeking.

The old man was not sure if he could see him, seeing that it was dark inside. But then, he couldn't gaze away from him and hide behind the shadows once again. There was something in the blond's eyes that had magnetized his gaze and although he had this inkling he was discovered by him, Harold did not make any move to hide anymore.

"And besides, your father will kill me if I take you away with me," he whispered, a hint of humor in his voice. Draco then looked away and down on the blubbering mess in his arms. His eyes softened, an expression that Harold did not know Hermione had the only privilege of seeing. "I'll come back to you," he earnestly said, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I promise."

Hermione bit her bottom lip and directed her glossy and reddened eyes into his mercurial gaze. She closed her eyes, released a desperate, yet resigned sigh, before tiptoeing and giving him a loving kiss on the lips.

Harold looked away and sighed, deciding that he was intruding their _alone _time too much already. Strangely, he felt compelled to go back to his bedroom and leave the couple alone. Even though he distrusted the boy, he had this feeling that he would not violate his daughter tonight.

He then walked away from the window up to his bedroom, the sweet beckoning of sleep luring him inside.

Harold had gained a fraction of gratitude for Draco Malfoy. Of course the young wizard did not know this but Harold Granger was immensely thankful that the boy did not allow Hermione to go with him to his house.

* * *

**A/N: Wee, end of chapter! How'd you like it? You know the drill, my lovelies. **

**That's all for now :) I'll perhaps update on Sunday or Monday, depending on my schedule. **

**With love,  
WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	4. Fiance

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's. :)**

* * *

**A/N: Wee, chapter four of "Mister Granger's Mission"! Thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter. **

**So, without further ado, I present to you the fourth chapter. Review afterwards. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Fiancé**

* * *

"I want to marry your daughter."

Harold Granger, sixty-years-old, heard the words that feared him the most. The steaming mug of coffee slipped from his hands and noisily shattered in his office floor, the brown liquid messing up the impeccable floors that he ordered for his assistants to maintain. For now, it was neglected as he slowly turned around and faced the same boy that had tormented his mind ever since Hermione's childhood.

Draco Malfoy, now at twenty-five, stared back at him with all the seriousness that he could muster on his face. His back was ramrod straight; his chin lifted in what Harold could relate with confidence, _over-confidence_ if he wanted to be exact. His piercing mercurial eyes were hardened with determination and his lips were pursed tightly as he waited for his response.

Inside, his heart thrummed wildly in shock. It seemed so long ago when this boy deceived his daughter and wife into thinking that he made the young tot cry, only to see that the boy had the audacity to tighten his arms around his daughter, seemingly unwilling to let go, with that triumphant smirk on his face.

Harold slowly rubbed the bridge of his nose, Draco's smirk nauseating him. "No," he croaked, his voice cracking with emotions that started to overwhelm him. "_No_."

Hermione's father glared through his fringes, surveying the unchanging stance of the grown-up man. How dare he trudged into his office without notice, stating with all that high-and-mighty air of his that he wanted to _marry _his daughter. Harold woke up to a fairly normal day, ate his lovely wife's delicious breakfast, and bid his healer daughter goodbye as she went to St. Mungo's to start a new day in her work.

Everything was normal, _too _normal, he now supposed. He went to his dental clinic, checked the teeth of his patients. Even his usually clumsy secretary Mrs. Silver was acting strangely obedient and accident-free. Harold thought today could pass as another fleeting day, nothing special would happen, and then he could go home to his still-beautiful wife and daughter.

And then, Draco Malfoy dropped by unannounced.

Harold couldn't hide his contempt when the businessman stepped into his office despite the obvious glares that he sent his way. Seeing that his relationship with Hermione was steadily growing, his face had been a frequent presence in his house, unfortunately.

After their graduation in Hogwarts, Hermione then became a Healer and the Malfoy boy took up the business that his late father left for him. Turned out that Draco Malfoy instantly became one of the richest people in the Wizarding World below thirty, seeing that he inherited one of the most successful companies, the Malfoy Enterprises.

The boy grew up well, much to his frustration. His belief that his features would someday break the hearts of millions of girls, witch or Muggle alike, was growing truer and truer as he aged. His aristocratic-isque features was enough to emit sighs and swoons. From what he had heard from Hermione, the boy even had a fan club back in their old school. Harold could not believe that his daughter was not alarmed by this, seeing that her boyfriend was well-liked by many. The only answer she gave him was a laugh and reassuring words.

"_He loves me_," she once told them during dinnertime. Harold tried his very best not to scowl that day, but he could see from Jane's eyes that she was floored by Hermione's words. "_And I love him, Daddy. I have enough faith in him not to cheat._"

He did not answer anything back during that day. Now that they were out of school, the boy was bound to meet new people, even females who were far more beautiful than his Hermione that could sway him from the strong trust that his daughter gave him.

For years, he waited for Draco to make a mistake. He waited for gossips about him having illicit trysts behind his daughter's back. He even purchased those god-awful _Witch Weekly _just to see the headlines whether Hermione's boyfriend was seen with a mysterious, beautiful lady dining in some lavish restaurant that was enough to feed the hungry in Africa.

But none came and _oh_, how disappointed he was.

"_He loves Hermione_," Jean pointed to him, again and again, even shooting amusing looks at the Wizarding magazine he had purchased. "_It has been years now, Harold. Can't you see that he has proven himself already_?"

No, he doesn't.

No, he did not want to believe that the boy loves his Hermione.

No, he could not accept that he was _flawless_.

Seemingly perfect people like him were bound to commit mistakes. And when they do, they were normally humongous.

Rich, handsome, and charismatic. If his daughter ended up marrying a man like that, Harold feared that she would die with a broken heart.

"I want to marry Hermione, sir," Draco politely stated once again, his voice even and calm, successfully pulling Harold off his reminiscing. "I'm afraid I cannot take a 'no' for an answer."

"Then _I'm _afraid you cannot get a 'yes' from me, boy," Harold barked. For him, he would always be a 'boy'. He then turned around, making it look like he did not want to talk to him anymore, but Draco was persistent. He could hear his footsteps coming nearer him and he could not restrain the growing scowl on his face.

"I'm in love with Hermione," the blond then implored, now a hint of pleading in his voice. "I know you do not really like me – "

" – glad you noticed – "

" – but Mr. Granger, I genuinely want to give her a lifetime of happiness," he continued, despite his interruption. Draco walked in front of him and stared straight into Harold's eyes. The old man looked away; he could not accept the truthfulness in his stare. "She… she is _everything _to me, do you understand that, sir?"

Harold harrumphed.

"Merlin knows _how _much she means to me," he continued. His voice was laced with admiration and love and everything that Harold did not want to hear. "I'd be forever damned if I let her slip away from me. Have you seen your daughter lately, sir? She has suitors following her every move and taking in her every word. I" – his jaw tightened – "cannot accept that."

"Do not test my patience, boy," Harold threatened.

Draco straightened his back. "I'm sorry, Mr. Granger, but I'm going to marry her no matter what," he declared, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Whether you like it or not, I _will _marry her."

A wave of dizziness suddenly overwhelmed Harold and he limped towards one of his table. His hand came into his heart, massaging what became an infuriating pain in his heart, and scowled darkly at Draco.

"Mister Granger?" he asked, alarmed.

Harold managed to glare weakly at him before the pain in his heart overpowered his senses. His consciousness slipped away and he fell limp on his coffee-coated floor, Draco's alarmed calls ringing loudly in his ears.

* * *

He woke up in an unfamiliar environment with a groan.

"Daddy!"

Harold blearily opened his eyes and met Hermione's, tear-filled brown ones. She immediately bent down and hugged him, her sobs turning guttural with relief.

Jean's worn, tearstained, yet beautiful face then came into his view and she shook her head. She cracked a wry smile and grasped his wrinkled hand, squeezing it tightly with all the strength that she could muster. "You gave us a scare back there," his wife admonished, although her usual reprimanding tone was gone. "Draco called Hermione and told us that he rushed you in this hospital. The doctors said you had an attack of hypertension." She placed both of her hands against her waist and lightly glared at him. "What did I tell you before, Harold? You're growing old so you must stay away from food that will ultimately lead you to a godforsaken hospital like this."

Everything that his wife said left his ears. What remained was the name of the boy, prompting Harold hissed. "Where is he?" he barked.

Hermione pulled away from him and frowned at his harsh tone. "He went back to his company, Dad," she softly answered him, wiping her tears away. "He wanted to stay, but I urged him to go. He has an important meeting today and I don't want him to miss it."

"Break up with him," he said with so much passion.

"HAROLD!" Jean exclaimed, scandalized.

The brunette furrowed her brows in confusion and completely pulled away from him. "_Dad_," she said, exasperation in her voice. "We've talked about this before. Why are you - "

"I don't care what we talked about before, Hermione," he butted in, getting infuriated himself. "I want you to break up with a boy and find another man that will truly love you."

Her jaw dropped in disbelief. "You cannot tell me what to do," she said, tears now slipping from her eyes from what he could understand as confusion and incredulity. "I'm twenty-six, for goodness' sake! I think I know well enough whom I will love forever, Dad."

Harold massaged his temples, knowing that a growing headache was to come soon. He shot a longing look at the hospital door, hoping that a nurse would stride in and give him some medications that he truly, _undoubtedly_, need right now.

"Why can't you just accept Draco, Daddy?" Hermione cried, shooting up from her seat in frustration. "H-he's proven himself enough. He worked _very _well. He's not a bad person."

"BECAUSE!" Harold thundered. Hermione widened her eyes and flinched away, surprised that her father had raised his voice to her. "Because he's… he's…"

"He's what, Dad?" she asked, her eyes now narrowed in fury.

The Granger patriarch closed his mouth and looked away from her. "I refuse to answer that question," he said.

Hermione took a deep, shaking breath and walked away from his bed. "Fine," she said, her voice suddenly turning cold. "All right. If that's what you want, then I refuse to talk to you until you tell me the reason, Daddy." She turned away and walked out of his hospital room, not even giving him a glance back when she slammed the door shut.

"Can you see what that boy does to your daughter?" Harold exclaimed, pointing furiously at the closed door. "Hermione's _impolite_, Jean. My Hermione was never impolite."

"And my Harold that I know doesn't impose things to our daughter that he knows she cannot do!" Jean answered back, exasperated herself. Her husband stared at him, dumbstruck, but Jean refused to back away. "How many times do I have to tell you this, Harold, they _love _each other. Can't you see it in their eyes whenever they were together? Or their actions? Their words? Hermione loves Draco and dear God above, he loves and adores _everything _about her. How can you be so selfish, ask her to do something that will only benefit you, and end up hurting your daughter in the end?"

He scowled and looked away, crossing his arms petulantly.

To his great surprise, Jean smacked him soundly on his arm, disregarding the fact that he was in a hospital and he was a _patient _in it.

"I also refuse to speak to you until you got over that stubbornness of yours," she said with a harrumph before turning away and leaving him inside.

Once alone, Harold sighed, his head falling heavily back on his pillow.

'_Perhaps this is a nightmare,' _he asked himself, his eyes gradually closing. _'Maybe if I wake up, Draco Malfoy does not exist in my daughter's life.'_

* * *

The sound of the door opening roused him from his sleep. Thinking it was his wife or daughter, Harold immediately shot up from his bed and turned around, urging his lips to smile widely in relief now that his two important women were once again ready to talk to him.

The disappointment that hit him was so humongous that he scowled. The cause of their petty fight was now standing right in front of him, an unreadable expression in his too-handsome face.

"Leave," Harold barked, slowly lying down on his bed again and turning his face away from Draco. "I am too tired, boy."

"I heard what happened from Hermione," the blond softly said, shuffling closer to his bed. "I - "

Mr. Granger sighed exasperatedly and looked over his shoulders to glare at the infuriating man. "Didn't you hear me?" he thundered. "I said _leave_."

"No," Draco stubbornly said, frowning at the man.

Harold's jaw dropped, affronted, and sat up on his hospital bed once again. "Excuse me?" he asked, still in disbelief.

The boy took a deep breath and stared intently into his eyes. "I will not leave until we sort out" – he frowned and gesticulated wildly in the air – "_this _thing between us, sir. Hermione refuses to talk to you, but I can see that she was sorry. I don't entirely know what had happened, but I somehow got the gist that you fought because of me."

"Damn right that was," Harold murmured gruffly to himself, crossing his arms petulantly.

Draco sighed and dragged the nearby chair closer to his bed. He plopped down and leaned closer to Harold, the determination once again present on his face. "Twenty years ago," he started, "I met Hermione, Mr. Granger, and I cannot even begin to describe you how that day soon became the happiest day of my life."

"Why are you telling me this?" the older of the two asked, frowning.

"I remembered the time Hermione invited me for the first time for a dinner in your house," the blond continued, a ghost of a small smile now playing on his fair features. "I remembered the excitement I felt, but I remembered I could not interact with Muggles or else, my father…"

He left his words hanging, his painful past hanging heavily between the two of them. Harold shifted on his rickety bed, feeling a little awkward. He was still in disbelief when it was revealed to him that Draco Malfoy was being abused by his father at home. He never told it to anyone out loud but secretly, he was somehow relieved that Lucius Malfoy was not able to make it out from the Second War that his daughter and this Malfoy partook in. The reason for the relief, though, that he did not quite understand himself.

"My Mother, bless her soul, helped me by making up an excuse and allowing me to go," Draco then said after a moment of silence. "And you see, sir, by the time I went to your house, I already made this silent oath to myself that I will never, _ever _let Hermione go."

Harold's jaw tightened and he glared darkly at the blond. Draco, on the other hand, seemed unfazed.

"But then you started inquiring things that my poor five-year-old mind could not understand," he said, that annoying smirk now on his face. "I mean, asking me if I plan of marrying Hermione? I was _five_." Chuckles escaped from his lips but he quickly sobered when Harold's face turned red. "Anyway, I deduced one thing, though – you were afraid of me."

"_I was not_!" Mr. Granger hollered, disregarding the fact that he was still a little weak from that scene back in his dental office.

"Yes, you were," Draco sad, pursing his lips tightly. "You were afraid that I would steal Hermione away from you."

Harold clamped his mouth shut, knowing that he had hit a nerve. His hands clenched into a fist and he scowled darkly, turning his brown eyes, the same eyes that Hermione inherited.

"I… did something I was good at," the blond then guiltily confessed. "I _acted_. I cried and then Hermione and Jean bustled inside and instantly flanked my side. It was…" He grinned idiotically, much to Harold's surprise. "It was _nice_. I felt good. Back home, nobody went to my side when I cry. It was always the house elves."

Somehow, the silent fury in him mellowed. He shot a look at Draco at the corner of his eyes, and saw that he was once again genuinely smiling.

"I remembered what I did next," Draco continued. "I remembered smirking triumphantly at you when Hermione hugged me. I-I won't apologize for that because I wasn't even sorry at all but I knew that day that somehow, you started disliking me all the more."

Harold was impressed; for a five-year-old, the boy was sure observant and perceptive.

"I was selfish as a child, and I know that you know it, sir." Draco sighed and licked his bottom lip, furrowing his brows as he thoughtfully looked back at him. "I… Hermione was the only person who genuinely cared for me, save from my mother." He clasped his fingers and hanged his head in shame. "I still regret the day when I let my father dictate my life and pushed Hermione away." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I still remembered those tears that she had shed when I first called her _that _word."

"I know for sure that the dislike you felt for me spurned into hate," he continued. "Perhaps even stronger than that. Hermione felt betrayed for my actions, and so did you." He forlornly quirked a corner of his lips at the surprised look on Harold. "I mean, how could I do that to your daughter when she placed her trust in me?" He shook his head and chuckled. "When she got petrified back in second year, I was… I was so _afraid _that one day she will be, you know, gone while she had no idea that even during my troublesome years, she was the only person that mattered to me."

The old man slowly looked back at Draco and thoughtfully looked at him.

"And so, I defied my father's orders and profusely apologized to her," Draco then said. "I'd be forever damned if she never accepted it. But we both know that Hermione's not like that, that she doesn't keep grudges, that she is _forgiving_." A small smirk appeared on his face as he raised an eyebrow at Harold. "I know that you don't think I deserve her, Mr. Granger. _Trust me_, I think every second of my life that _I _do not deserve her myself."

"But she stuck up with me, fought with me, cared for me… I wasn't surprised when I realized one day that she was everything to me, that I _love _her." His voice held so much truthfulness that Harold grimaced. "As my feelings grew, as she started to reciprocate my genuine feelings back, I am also well aware that your alarm and fear grew with those feelings."

Draco sighed for the umpteenth time and leant closer to Harold. "I do not mean to preach, but Mr. Granger, you are getting old," he softly said. He gestured at his beeping heart machine with a knowing look in his eyes. "I think the effects of the shock I gave you a few days ago were proof enough."

Harold scowled at him, but Draco chuckled.

"I… I know that Hermione is everything to you, too, sir," he continued, all mirth gone from his voice. "God knows how jealous I am from all the love that her father gives to her. I did not exactly have the best relationship with my father when he was alive. I-I also know that you are afraid that I will hurt her, leave her in the future, and ultimately break her heart in the end. Since I am a boy that grew up from a dark family, one that served the very monster that tormented your daughter's life, you were afraid that I will turn into some evil, snarky person and corrupt your daughter."

Mr. Granger's mouth dried, knowing that every word that Draco said was actually very true.

"The funny thing was, I would have been if it weren't for Hermione," he confessed. Upon seeing his questioning gaze, Draco smiled and straightened up from his seat. "She _saved _from those godforsaken memories and experiences I had. She was always there, willing to give me a chance even though I had done so many wrong things countless times already. She had _faith _in me, sir, and it was the only thing that steered me off from the path that would then make me a man that is as despicable as my father and Voldemort."

"I would never dare hurt her," he swore loudly Harold almost flinched. "Salazar strike me down if ever I do."

He straightened himself on his seat, once again wearing the expression that he had worn on the day he revealed to him that he wanted to marry Hermione. "Perhaps, you might still have doubts, Mr. Granger," he finally continued. "But I swear to you with everything that I own and cherish that I will love your daughter forevermore. Like what I've told you, you are getting older and weaker. I… I want to assume your job of being Hermione's protector once you are gone already. I want to be the person that she will run to whenever she is feeling down. I want to be the person that she will share the happiness she feels, whether small or big. I want to be the person that she fights with, to see those gorgeous eyes of hers flaring in rage and frustration. I want to be the person that she apologizes, too, knowing that she would never have a goodnight's rest knowing that she left a fight unresolved."

"I want to marry Hermione, Mr. Granger," he repeated once again. "I know that my love for her will never match up with your love for her. You are, after all, her father. But God knows that that is my greatest desire for a while."

His speech then had ended and he was expectantly looking straight into Harold's eyes. He, on the other hand, bristled on his bed and looked away, a myriad of emotions flashing through his old, worn eyes.

The boy spoke the truth, much to his frustration. His words had hit home and no matter how much Harold turns a blind eye from his true intentions, he knew that the blond would only be persistent. He'd rather stay in his hospital room in peace, away from infuriating men like the boy that was looking right at him.

His heart softened inside, though. The words he had stated were the words that all fathers would have loved to hear from a man that fell in love with their daughters.

Oh, don't get him wrong. He still despises Draco Malfoy. He just didn't want to die an infuriated old man all because of a persistent boy that kept on pestering his very presence in this world.

Thus, with a set, yet defeated heart, Harold released a soft sigh and lightly glared at Draco. "Do whatever you want," he grumbled, biting his cheek when Draco broke into the widest smile that he had ever seen. "But do remember this, boy. If you ever hurt my Hermione, I will kill you."

His infamous smirk graced his features. "If I ever hurt Hermione, Mr. Granger," he declared. "I will kill myself first."

Draco then stood up from his seat and inclined his head. "Expect a visit from your daughter soon," was his farewell before turning around and leaving Harold behind.

Once alone, Harold's head fell back on his pillow, dead tired and defeated.

"I hope I made the right choice," he murmured to himself before sleep finally took over him.

* * *

His door creaked open and Harold softly groaned.

"What now?" he barked, expecting to see the triumphant smirk on Draco's face, only to meet the tear-filled eyes of his daughter. "Hermione?" he asked, alarmed when she started sniffing. "What's wrong, love? Is something the matter?"

"Daddy," she softly whispered, a small, watery smile breaking on her face. That was when Harold realized that his daughter was not crying of distress or pain. She was crying because of what he could deduce as pure and unadulterated happiness. "Draco p-proposed to me."

Harold sighed and lightly scowled. It was the first time Hermione had talked to him ever since their little fight. It was not exactly the words that he wanted to hear from his daughter. "I know," he finally said, seeing her expectant eyes.

Hermione sniffed and wiped her tears away, sitting down on the same seat that the boy occupied two days ago. "Daddy, I'm sorry," she then said. When he stared at her in confusion, she smiled. "Y-you know, when we fought back days ago. I-I did not mean to hurt you like that, Daddy." She grasped his wrinkled hand and rubbed his knuckles. "I'm sorry and to think that you just got confined in the hospital."

His father laughed and patted her hand that was clutching his. "Your temper matched mine," he lightly joked. "Reassures me more that you are really mine."

She smiled fondly at him and squeezed his hand. "I-I heard everything from Draco," she whispered.

Harold sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" he mused aloud. "You are practically like the diaries of one another, ratting off everything that had happened to your lives to each other."

Upon seeing that more tears slipped off from her eyes, all hints of jesting left the old man's mind.

"I-I don't know what to say," she honestly confessed. "I… thank you, Daddy."

His heart swelled at her small, grateful words. He leaned closer to his daughter and enveloped her into a hug, tightening his arms around her when she softly cried.

"It will probably be the worst decision in my life," he said, prompting her to chuckle, "but the boy spoke the truth." He grimaced. "No matter how much I want to deny it, you know."

Hermione chuckled and lightly pulled away from him. "Draco loves me, Daddy," she whispered.

The old man closed his eyes and nodded. "I know," he said.

"He will never hurt me," she continued.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. "I know that, too," he said.

"Can you trust him, Daddy?" she feebly asked, lifting a hand and brushing his white fringes off his forehead.

Harold bestowed a kiss on her forehead. "If you tell him this, Hermione, then I am going to lock you away in your bedroom and refuse to let you go," he warned beforehand. "But yes, love, I think I can." He paused, pursing his lips in thought, before quickly correcting, "I _do _trust him, you know."

Hermione grinned and shook her head. "Fathers and their overprotectiveness," she admonished. "I am quite surprised that you agreed for him to marry me."

He scowled, affronted. "Have you not faith for your old man?" he asked.

"Dad," she said, giving him a pointed look. "The first time you woke up after from your accident back in your dental office, you spouted words for me to break up with him." Hermione inclined her head, pretending to be deep in thought. "And need I remind you about all those years when you tried to push me away from him, being all scowls when Mom and I invite him to meals, and turn into this nasty, _no offense_, person hoping that I will see the truth of him being someone that doesn't deserve me?"

Harold blinked, surprised that she was able to say the truth. "Well…" he said. "I was just being a father." He sheepishly grinned to back up his lame excuse.

Hermione launched himself into his arms again and laughed against his shoulder. "Yes, you were," she said. "And I loved you for all of those ridiculous things, Daddy."

He returned her hug, his chest feeling peculiar when he patted her back. It seemed so long ago when she was just a tiny babe in his arms, snuggled deep into the crooks of his arms as she stared dazedly up at him with all of the innocence of a little child. And now, she was a grown up woman with the horrors of the Second War in the Wizarding World that she grew buried deep into the deepest and darkest recesses of her heart.

Somehow, he felt a little saddened. He would soon share his Hermione with another man and it broke his good, ol' heart. He wished that he could turn back time, spend so many more days with the daughter that he loves the most, and be the only man in her life.

Sighing, he knew his wish would never come true. She was now the fiancée of the richest man in the Wizarding World.

Soon, she will be Granger no more.

"Do you love him, my daughter?" he softly asked, his eyes feeling awfully scratchy and watery.

He felt her smile against his hospital gown. "With all of my heart," she vowed truthfully.

Harold smiled and allowed one tear to spill down from his eye. "Then I guess that is enough for me," he whispered back.

* * *

**A/N: So, end of chapter! You know the drill; tell me your opinions in your reviews :)**

**The next chapter will be end, my dear readers. I know it was quite short, seeing that I usually post either Dramione one-shots or novel-length ones. Eh, but what the heck. I have another Dramione story coming up, though it might take months before I'm finally satisfied with everything. **

**If you spotted some grammatical errors, just turn a blind eye or something. I'm rushing today because I have to attend my friend's debut and you know, I have to fix myself and everything. **

**That's it for now! Again, please review :)**

**With love,  
WickedlyAwesomeMe**


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